Twelve Months

September

September

It's been a week since I've started my senior year. Max is, unfortunately, in most of my classes. I hate the way he looks at me in physical education; it makes me think twice about what I wear and do. Good part, Nick and Amanda are also in most of my classes. It's hilarious when Amanda gives Max her “death glare”.

Nick and I have built back up our friendship. We decide to keep it as a strict friendship. Nick and Penelope are officially dating now. She's almost always over his house, and from my bedroom window I see them hanging out in the backyard all the time. I'm not jealous though. He can have what he wants; even if it's a dirty slut. All I can do is be supportive.

Brandon's gone. We left our relationship to a mutual friendship. We decided that if we had a long-distance relationship, it wouldn't work out. By the time school started, almost everyone knew about Brandon and I “dating”. I don't tell anyone that we've broken up. As long as people think I'm taken, I don't have desperate boys coming after me. All except Max, of course.

As the bell rings, I zoom out of my last class, heading straight to my locker. I've been feeling very weak today. Probably because of the flu going around. I have to be careful. As I open my locker, a thought comes to me. Max should be coming right about...

“Hey Emily.” There's that stupid annoying cocky voice again. It hasn't every irritated me this much before. I ignore him like I always do and pack my things up for the weekend. Max always comes bothers me at my locker on Fridays. Usually, it's Amanda or Nick that chase him away. I wonder where they are. “So how's Sheldon doing?” I close my locker.

“You know his name; Brandon, and why should I tell you anything?” I walk away and submerge myself in the sea of students escaping the school. I need to get home and lie down.

Since Mom and Dad both work, I never get a chance to drive to school. Marcus comes home late because of football practice. He's really dedicated to the game.

As I'm on the sidewalk in front of my house, I feel something. Someone watching me, to be specific. I freeze for a moment before turning and being face-to-face with Max.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to be intimidating. Although on the inside, I'm a little scared that he followed me all the way to my house. He's never done that before.

“Just, hanging,” he says, shoving his hands into his sagging pants. I swear, that is about the stupidest trend ever. “So, this where you live?” I glare at him.

“Go away Max,” I snap. He grabs my wrist forcefully. It hurt. I try to pull my wrist out, but he has a tight grip. “Let go.”

“One kiss,” he says, leaning into my face. I push his face away, but his hand still stays on my wrist. His hand tightens, making me wince. “I've been obsessing over you for months now. I will get my one kiss from you one way or another.”

“Not my fault,” I say with a arrogant smirk. “And I'd rather burn my own lips than to have them on yours.” He gets this angry look in his eyes I've never seen. Before I know what's happening, I feel his free hand connect to the side of my face. I tumble to the ground. He still has my wrist in his hand. It gets tighter and I gasp. I clutch my face with my free hand. It stings really badly.

“I have had enough of you! I try to be a nice guy, but that's all done.” Max forces me onto my feet. He let go of my wrist, but grips my hair instead and pulls it. Usually it doesn't hurt when people pull my hair or if it gets caught on something, but this time it's different. It forces a few tears out of me as I try to get his hand off my hair. It just makes him pull harder. Max pulls my hair so his gruesome face is only centimeters from mine. “You will kiss me now. Unless you want something worse than that slap happen to you.”